Tying the Knot
by bittersweet bunny
Summary: Possibly part one of a fan rpg horror story. Meh, dunno. *shrugs* I was looking forward to turning this into something like "Mad Father". The story would eventually revolve around Amalie Gisela, a seventeen year old girl unhappy with life. One day she passes by a train station and wakes up with no memory. She ventures out to discover her purpose in Imagi-Nation, land of dreams.


The sound of wine glasses clinking echoed as laughter and smiles issued. Silk, white tablecloths and corinthian roman columns set the mood for the occasion- a wedding.

"Amalie! Oh dearest sister!" A girl, around her early thirties dressed in a beautiful mermaid style wedding gown, fussed. The dress was a translucent off-white color with beads and ruffles everywhere.

"Monika, what is it?" Her younger sister asked in a drowsy manner.

"Oh Amalie! Have you seen my bouquet? Please tell me you have!"

"Quiet down, you're giving me a headache. Now, where was the last place you saw it."

"Well, I suppose I may have left it with Nina or Erika.."

"Start from there then."

"Actually, Berthold and I still have to greet the guests. Please be a doll of a sister and go fetch my flowers." Amalie glared with her plum colored eyes, but complied. For she knew she had to take responsibility now that she's in college. Pushing back her shaggy bangs and fixing her curled twintails, she marched off muttering under her breath. Amalie hated the fact that she was, "dictated," into wearing such a feminine dress and wedges for an affair that she could care less about. She never got along with her sister, especially because she envied her.

Stumbling on the gold-rimmed carpet that lead from the gazebo to indoors, she approached the somewhat large restroom. Before her were two women around Monika's age applying mascara and powder. And next to one of the bridesmaids was a bouquet filled with white roses and gardenias. Unnoticed by the two girls, she quickly snatched the flowers.

Immediately exiting the restroom, she bumped into, none other than, Berthold Raffaela. He had stiff, broad shoulders and reeked of odorous aftershave and cologne. He had a five-o'clock shadow, thick eyebrows, and shaggy dark black hair. Amalie never liked him because his breath smelled like alcohol; vodka perhaps.

"Hey there girlie, is your sister around?"

"Hi Berthold. Monika is outside in the front of the chapel. She wants you to help greet the guests." Amalie couldn't have said it in a less monotone voice.

"Will do." Berthold croaked while giving off his signature smirk. Amalie just rolled her eyes and clumsily sauntered off to the kitchen. Truth be known, she loved baking. It was one of her favorite hobbies in fact. Her uncle was famous indeed for his bakery back upstate. He agreed to help the kitchen make small pastries, such as tarts and franzbrötchen, along with the wedding cake.

"Can I help you with the Hochzeitstorte?" Amalie asked as politely as she could.

"I'm afraid I'm almost done, but you may add the frosting." His voice was gentle.

"Thank you, Uncle!" She grabbed the piping bag filled with cherry red icing.

"Just leave it there when you're done and I'll carry it outside." He spoke halfway out of the kitchen.

After ten or twenty minutes, she finished applying the frosting. Smiling and giggling, she skipped off outside. Making eye contact with her uncle, he nodded and quietly made way toward the kitchen.

Behind the enormous floral arrangement, sitting down at the table, were Amalie's mother, father, sister, and step-brother. Monika grabbed a champagne glass and hit her spoon against the side to settle the guests down. Looking at her new spouse, she gave a gentle smile.

"Thank you all for coming here to celebrate this momentous occasion. Berthold and I couldn't be happier to see you all. Um.. My Uncle is here bringing us the beautifully designed Hochzeitstorte! Everyone, please give him a hand!" The guests all applauded as he set down the cake onto their table; he gave a modest bow to everyone in response.

"So, let's dig in!" Berthold said ravenously. He grabbed a large slice and stuffed it in his mouth. Laughing, Monika grabbed a fork along with her newlywed. They merrily fed each other a small bite of the wedding cake. But, after they both swallowed, they tasted an unusual taste, almost like bitter almonds. Berthold stuttered―coughing and choking―followed by a loud hack; then Monika did the same. They both fell out of their patio chairs and lay on the wet grass. The guests all shrieked and crowded around the couple. Panicking, a man around his late forties kneeled down beside Berthold. Pressing his hand against his cold neck and heart, he shook his head.

"He's.. dead."

Creeping toe-after-toe, Amalie made her way through the crowd and into the kitchen. She swiftly located and grabbed the sprinkle container filled with a powder-like substance- cyanide. Amalie scurried and hid the container with her Uncle's utensils. She left the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief. Amalie then began to giggle, for she had gotten away with murder.


End file.
